


Pretty Bird Omakes

by Thorinsmut



Series: Pretty Bird [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Babies, F/F, F/M, Interspecies Romance, M/M, Nightmares, Nonbinary Dwarves, PTSD, Side Stories, Trans Character, bird style courting, shapeshifter AU, the Ri family have skinchanger tendencies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 12:52:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1819150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thorinsmut/pseuds/Thorinsmut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things that happen off-screen either during or after Pretty Bird.</p><p>1 - Kurdûh - Lady Dis and Ari (mama Ri) during the Quest<br/>2 - Skaeri - the next generation of skinchangers in Erebor<br/>3 - nightmares - Dwalin deals with the aftermath of the battle</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kurduh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lady Dis and Ari during the quest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, there should be mouseover translations for your reading pleasure.

.

Lady Dis nodded as she accepted a cup of tea from Ari, her thanks hardly more than a murmur as she wrapped her hands around it. She breathed the fragrant steam deeply, finally relaxing.

She sipped the perfectly sweetened cup and sighed, leaning back. Ari's dark eyes were smiling at her when Dis finally looked up to meet them.

“Long day?” the older Dam asked, and Dis nodded. Ari sipped her own tea and set her cup aside, picking her little lace loom up again. Her fingers were never still, always weaving the intricate lace that was her family's main support – especially now her sons were gone.

Dis did not know how she'd survived so long without Ari's friendship. She'd purchased lace from her and Viri before of course, you could hardly be fashionable in Ered Luin without it, but she'd never had a mind to befriend her before. Despite the unfortunate circumstance of their getting to know each other better – with Thorin essentially blackmailing Ari's sons into joining his quest – Ari had become a good friend to Dis. She had not held Thorin's stubbornness against her.

The mithril-haired Dam had invited Dis to come calling, and Dis had. At first they had talked of their sons on the quest, mostly, but as the months went on and they grew to know each other better they talked of more and more.

Dis did not know how she had survived without Ari, now. Ari was a sympathetic ear and a strong shoulder to lean on and always had a solid word of advice when Dis needed it. Dis tried her best to be the same for Ari.

It reminded Dis of her youth in Erebor, surrounded by her Ladies, her handmaidens. She had never been without female companionship, then. It was not that she was _starved_ for gentler company in Ered Luin, but in trying to support her people and her family Dis had neglected to form such close friendships – especially since the loss of her Farli. Ari's steady company reminded Dis of her Ladies in Erebor, of the bosom friends and sweet lovers she'd had among them.

Ari and Viri had a standing invitation in the palace where Dis ruled in Thorin's absence, as she so often did while he wandered. Ari had done Dis the honor of offering her the same, so when Dis had had just _too much_ in her court – she fled to the comfort of Ari's kitchen.

With the tea to settle her, Dis relaxed and soon she and Ari were laughing over the frankly ridiculous demands of some of the guild heads. They ought to know by _now_ that Dis was not the sort to capitulate to their demands. If they came to her with a _reasonable_ proposal, one that did no harm to her people or the other guilds, she'd listen.

Dis and Ari finished their tea and talked and laughed, while more quiet Viri sat in a rocking chair beside the fire, weaving lace and occasionally smiling, rarely joining in.

Dis did not know how she had survived without Ari's company. While Viri was more her age, it was _Ari_ Dis found herself turning to. She'd not thought, after her wife, her Farli fell in Azanulbizar, that she'd take another lover.

But then there was Ari. She was nothing like Farli. Where Farli was a warrior, all impulse and fire, Ari was comfort and calm with a core of steel.

And Ari made Dis laugh how she hadn't in far too long. Maybe since Farli and Frerin and Thror, and so many others with them, were lost.

Dis _treasured_ Ari's friendship, but she found herself wondering if they could maybe have something – certainly not _more_ than what they shared – something just slightly _different_ . After so long alone, who would begrudge Dis the comfort of a consort, even if Ari were not noble? Ari was born of the line of Arnhadda – a family of famed courtesans with the beauty to show it – and already understood the rules and customs of the royal court. Even if they shared the ancestor Ari would claim they did, it was far enough in the past they would not be too closely related. Ari was past bearing, too, so it were not as though Dis could complicate the royal lines by producing another heir if they did happen to make love _that_ way.

But that was putting the cart _far_ before the pony. Dis did not know if Ari would _want_ to be her lover and consort. If all she wanted was to be Dis' friend, then Dis was more than happy to have her companionship that way.

She wanted to try, though. There was just something she needed to know first, and Dis had a feeling Ari would not volunteer the information if not asked.

“Serious thoughts, my Lady?” Ari asked, gently smoothing a few of Dis' silvered strands back from her face. _Ari's_ braids were never so unruly, beautiful mithril coils with never a strand out of place.

“A few.” Dis answered, catching Ari's fever-warm hand and seeing the smile in the older Dam's shining dark eyes when she did not let it go, stroking her thumb against the soft skin of the back as she held it.

“I was thinking about a story I was told, as a young princen in Erebor.” She confessed, “I had a nursemaid who would tell me stories, fairy stories I _thought_ , of the _zundushfillûr_ they said lived in the mountain.”

“They would tuck me into bed and whisper to me about the families of birds living secretly in the mountain, looking just exactly like Dwarves, with bright eyes and a fierce love of beauty. You would never know they weren't Dwarves until they changed and flew away to play with the Ravens.”

“Just fairy stories to soothe a rowdy princen to sleep.” Dis said, and Ari was still smiling at her, and still had not pulled her hand away from Dis'. That was good, and Dis dared press a little further.

“There were a few ways to tell, in the stories. Warmer skin, lighter bones, brighter eyes...” Dis trailed off, still holding Ari's fever-warm hand, feeling what might have been a surprising lightness for her sturdy build, looking into her shining dark eyes.

“I loved those stories.” Dis said, “I liked to imagine there _were_ birds hiding in Erebor, among the Dwarves. I would watch people in the markets, and wonder if _this_ one or _that_ one might be _zundushfillûr_... but it seemed to me, if there _were_ such Dwarves, that it would be a secret they only told someone they wanted for a _lover._ ”

“... _did_ you...” Ari mused, deep smile lines wrinkling up at the corners of her eyes. She did not seem even a little angry at what Dis was implying, was _asking_. She gave Dis' hand a brief squeeze, as though encouraging Dis to continue, not at all moving to remove her hand from Dis' grip.

“You know... the courtesan Arnhadda is only called a _Dwarf_ in records written well after her death? In those written when she was alive, she never was.” Dis blurted out. And _that_ was too far, she'd not intended to say that. It was too much like an accusation rather than an invitation. It was just something she'd noticed in the few records they had with them in Ered Luin, what little they'd saved from Erebor. Dis had been curious about Arnhadda, with her best friend a descendant, and the fact had struck her. She had not meant to reveal it that way.

“None of my business, any of it, of course.” Dis said, letting go of Ari's hand and looking away, “Just fairy stories.”

“Aren't you a sweetheart.” there was almost a laugh in Ari's quiet voice, her warm hands gently turned her face back, and the beautiful older Dam leaned forward to press her soft lips gently to Dis' cheek.

For a moment Dis was looking into shining dark eyes, Ari's generous bosom pressed against her arm and wondering if she was about to be kissed... and then there was a handsome beige crow with brown points perched on the table while Ari's lace-decorated dress wafted gently to the floor, cut-glass hair beads scattering around it.

It was one thing to suspect, and another entirely to _see_. Dis thought she could be forgiven for jerking back in her chair with an inarticulate gasp.

“Amad!” Viri dropped her little loom, staring at the bird, which was all the confirmation Dis' reeling brain needed that this really _was_ Ari.

“Good girl.” the crow told Viri, her voice a bit rough. Ari turned toward Dis, and Dis was looking right back into the same bird-bright dark eyes on such a different face.

“ _Pretty_ girl.” Ari cawed, hopping closer to Dis.

“Oh.” Dis reached partway out toward Ari, not quite daring to touch before she drew her hand back to cover her mouth. She had suspected, and maybe _hoped_ , but to actually _see_... “You're so beautiful...” Dis said, and Ari preened as if she understood. She _must_.

Ari hopped closer again, “Pretty girl.” She repeated, tilting her head as she looked at Dis.

“You _can_ pet her. She likes that.” Viri said, picking up her weaving again and shaking her head over her dropped threads.

Dis' fingers were not trembling _too_ badly when she reached out to softly stroke Ari's glossy feathers.

The crow leaned into it, and then hopped right onto Dis' knee. So trusting. Dis gently scratched and preened the feathers of her neck, the back of her head, and Ari made happy little _krrr_ sounds.

She was just a _bird_ , when she was a bird. Dis knew that much from what they had said of Nori when they were trying to convince Thorin he was not fit for the quest. But she was a sweet-natured bird.

Dis might have lost track of time, stroking Ari's soft feathers. Eventually the crow did get bored or tired, and hopped down to begin gathering up her fallen hair beads from the floor. Dis had forgotten all about them, but she immediately began helping gather them into a pile on the table. She picked up Ari's dress, shaking the wrinkles out of it, and placed it gently over the back of a chair.

When she was done gathering glass beads, Ari picked a blue one up and dropped it in Dis' lap.

“Is this one for me?” Dis asked.

“That's a courting gift.” Viri broke in quietly, before Dis' fingers closed on it, “Don't take it unless you _mean_ it.” There was sadness in Viri's shining dark eyes, and Dis' heart ached for it. The children of Arnhadda were courtesans, always mistresses and never wives.

Why shouldn't Viri worry for Dis' intentions toward her mother?

“I swear I will always do my best by her for as long as she will have me, and to treat her as a friend after if she ever chooses to leave me.” Dis told Viri, hoped it was _enough_ as she picked up the pretty cut-glass bead.

She unbraided one of the braids at her temple, freeing the silver clasp marked with her crest, and placed Ari's bead in its place.

The clasp she offered to Ari. It was an old-fashioned symbol, but if they both wore each other's beads it would announce their partnership to anyone who saw it. Dis would not take a lover secretly, as though it were a shameful thing.

She would be marked as Ari's with pride, and hoped that Ari could do the same for her.

The crow cawed happily as she took Dis' clasp and added it to her little pile of beads before returning to her knee to be preened and petted some more.

When Ari did eventually turn back, she was completely bare. It caught Dis by surprise, though it shouldn't have. Dis caught an eyeful of heavy breasts and broad curves, a beautiful round belly marked with the stretchmarks of having borne children, before she caught herself and looked away – face flushing hot.

“You sweet thing...” Ari laughed softly, and there was the rustling of fabric. “There. Decent.” She said, and Dis looked to see her wrapped neatly in a blanket that had been nearby. She still looked devastating, with her downy feathers all loose in a flowing mithril mane around her face.

Ari's dark eyes caught on the bead in Dis' hair, the cut-glass gem she'd given her as a bird, and her mouth opened into a little o of surprise. She glanced toward her pile of beads, eyes widening further as she saw Dis' bead among them.

“Only if you _want_ to.” Dis assured her quickly, unsure if Ari would agree with what she had done as a bird, when she was not herself. Dis would _not_ take advantage, never press for something that was unwanted.

“ _Kurdûh..._ ” the syllables of the endearment were soft on Ari's tongue, precious as gold as she stepped up to Dis to take both her hands in her own. “I would like nothing better.”

“I... I am a seeding woman.” Dis told her, because there _might_ be a few who did not already know that of her.

“And I am a bearing woman, as you saw.” Ari answered, smiling, “...Who I would like to kiss you.” she added

Dis nodded, vaguely aware of Viri picking up her weaving and leaving with a shy smile, but her attention was on Ari. Ari pulling her close, the overwhelming softness of her body pressed tight against the front of Dis as she lifted up on her tiptoes – not gifted the height of the line of Durin.

Dis leaned down, and Ari leaned up, and Dis' lips met lips full and soft and burning-warm and sweet.

If Dis had not already been hopelessly lost to Ari, she would never have lasted against that kiss. It was perfect, all she had hoped and more – to have Ari as friend, and now lover and consort as well.

Dis' last thought as her arms came around the older Dam to hold her tight, was that she did not know _how_ she had survived so long without this.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ari's bird looks like this:  
> http://thecutestscribeoferebor.tumblr.com/post/88489089582/bookrat-is-this-what-acromelanism-the-form-of
> 
> Princen is a gender neutral alternative to Prince/Princess as proposed by babykueen  
> http://babykueen.tumblr.com/post/66068178528/princus  
> Lady Dis uses it to describe herself, because at the time of the story she was telling, she had not yet chosen a gender.


	2. Skaeri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> generations

.

“...Amad?”

Ari immediately looked up at Viri's quiet word, seeing her daughter's hands twisting together nervously and her friend Skrikja perched on her shoulder where he so often was these days.

“What is it?” Ari asked, immediately putting aside her jeweled weaving and reaching for her. Viri sat beside Ari on the couch, taking the offered hand to hold, and the Raven stepped off her shoulder to instead perch behind her.

“Amad...” Viri trailed off, looking to Skrikja for comfort briefly. Viri had always been so _quiet_ , quieter than Ori even. Making friends had never been easy for her. Ari was _glad_ she had finally found a friend in Skrikja here in Erebor. The Raven gently preened a few of Viri's graying feathers, and Viri nodded.

“I seem to be pregnant.” Viri finally said, squeezing Ari's hand tight.

“Oh!' Ari squeezed Viri's hand back just as hard to offer comfort, seeing the worry on her daughter's face. She reached up with her other hand, gently cupping Viri's cheek.

“I'm here.” Ari promised. “What do you want to do, _zundushinh_?” Ari would _like_ to celebrate a new descendant of their line, but _never_ if it were not Viri's choice – and Viri did not look happy.

“I'm not sure.” Viri's lip trembled.

“I'm here, I'm here for you.” Ari soothed, gently stroking Viri's cheek, her shoulder, offering what comfort she could. “Whatever you decide, I'm here for you _sanathith_.”

“I know.” Viri said, her smile trembled but she _did_ smile. Ari might not always have been a perfect mother, had not always been able to provide all they needed, but at least her children always knew she was _there_ for them unconditionally.

“I did not even know you were _seeing_ anyone.” Ari ventured. Viri had determined young that she would be no one's mistress, never bear unacknowledged children. That was in Ered Luin, where things were harder. She may have changed her mind here in Erebor, being fabulously wealthy with claim on one fifth of her brothers' share of the treasure, but Ari would have hoped she would at least be _told._

“That _is_ part of the problem.” Viri said, glancing back at Skrikja again. “I have not been with _any_ Dwarf. I fly with Skrikja.” She turned her cheek into Skrikja, who rubbed his beak against it affectionately, “We're mated.” she said.

Ari did her best not to gasp like a landed fish. It made _sense_ , seeing how the two of them were together, but Ari had never imagined the like. She had never heard of such a thing. She would not have imagined they _could_ have children together – _zundushfullûr_ with a Raven.

If such a thing had ever happened before, it had been lost to memory.

“We agreed on it together, Viri and I.” Skrikja interjected, a little defensively in light of Ari's long silence, “We agreed _in words_ to fly together _before_ she changed to her crow.”

Of course Skrikja would worry that Ari would think he had taken advantage of Viri while she was not as fully capable of reasoning.

“I am sure you did.” Ari said vaguely, trying to make sense of it all – but she could see the worry in Viri's eyes as she reached up to stroke Skrikja's feathers over her shoulder, the Raven pressing in protectively close.

And what mattered was Viri's happiness, and what _she_ wanted. That was what mattered here.

If Ari's daughter chose to be mated to a Raven of Erebor, then Ari would support her in this.

“I wish you happiness in your union.” Ari said, and she could see their relief that she was accepting them. Viri was her _daughter_ , what else could she have done?

“Are you _sure_ you are bearing?” Ari asked. She still could not imagine that any Dwarf, even one of their line, could become pregnant with a _Raven_ 's child.

“We did not think it was possible either.” Viri answered, “But I missed my latest mense, and I _crave_ Bombur's honey-lemon glazed rabbit, and _cherries_... and I can't _change_. I can't fly.”

Oh, that did sound like it.

“I'm not _sick_ , though.” Viri pondered.

“I always bore easily.” Ari assured her, “Never sick a day... how does your chest feel?”

Viri placed one hand on the modest bosom that would not likely stay so _small_ now, if she were anything like her amad. “Tender.” she answered, and Ari nodded knowingly.

“That sounds like it.” Ari said. At least there was a midwife of their line here in Erebor now, to help in _whatever_ Viri decided. They'd have to have her look Viri over to confirm it, but Ari would stake her favorite weaving loom that Viri _was_ pregnant.

From mating in flight with a Raven. Would wonders never cease.

“What do I _do_ Amad?” Viri asked, and her lip was trembling again.

“What do you _want_ to do, _zundushinh_?” Ari answered, “If you do not _want_ to bear a child...”

“But I _do_.” Viri said, turning her face into Skrikja's feathers. “I _want_ Skrikja's child... but what if I can't? What if we're too different, and the child can't survive to birth? What if... what if...” Her hands closed over her belly, and Ari reached for her, gathered her daughter into her lap to hold her. She stroked Viri's back, undid her braids to preen her soft feathers. Skrikja hopped onto Ari's shoulder to help with the preening, and Viri slowly relaxed into the comfort they offered.

“I'm here for you.” Ari crooned, rocking gently back and forth, “Your whole family will be. We're here for you. There are always these dangers, bearing a child. Always. And even if your child is a little _different_ , there are no unwanted children of our line, Viri. You are loved, and your child will be loved...”

“I will not leave you, Viri.” Skrikja added gently, “I will be with you, if we can have a nestling or not...”

The sound Viri made was nearly a sob. Always so quiet, Viri, holding all this fear and worry in, hiding it. Ari was glad she had opened up so she could help carry some of it.

No one should have to bear alone. No one.

Viri would not have to.

Ari held and comforted her daughter, and Skrikja helped, and eventually Viri was calm.

“How do you do it?” Viri asked, sitting up again with Skrikja perched on her knee, preening her mate's feathers around his ears, “How do you go in public, bearing, when everyone who sees you will _know_ that you are not wedded, and were not planning..?”

“Proudly.” Ari answered, meeting Viri's dark eyes that matched her own, “We are the descendants of _Arnhadda_ , the most famed of courtesans. The King may have given us titles and claimed us as the kin we are, but we will _never_ be strictly respectable.” she said, smiling a bit too sharply. “We have seduced _Kings_ in our day.” And princesses, she did not add, but she saw in the amusement in Viri's eyes that she was thinking of Dis too, “Our rules are different. You do not need _their_ conventions. You will bear _radiantly_ , hiding nothing – show it off with your chin held high – envied and desired and answering no questions. You bear for the line of Arnhadda, and our line have _never_ needed to claim more than that.”

Viri's shoulders straightened a bit, but she still held that worry in her eyes.

“And you will _never_ have to go out alone if you do not wish to.” Ari added, “Once we've had the midwife look you over, we'll hold a family meeting. We will all support you. Your family is _with_ you.”

“I will gladly pluck out the eyes of anyone who _dares_ insult you.” Skrikja added, and Viri smiled as she leaned forward to nuzzle her face into his glossy black feathers.

. .

“ _Namad_.” Dwalin called Viri's wandering attention back to the moment, offering her a hand as they headed up the stair and to the next section of the market. She leaned on him heavily for support – still surprisingly light.

Dwalin had not known her well, before. She was so quiet, not often feeling the need to say anything, but he was growing to know her now that she was bearing.

Viri did not like to go out alone, but neither did she like to feel penned in, trapped. Since she could not fly while bearing, her family often accompanied her out into Erebor. Dwalin, as married to Nori, was her family too now. He made sure _no one_ would dare look at her wrong, with his size and his axes and his scowl. Not that he really had to much, not after Skrikja had offered to pluck out eyeballs a few times and the word spread that Viri actually seemed to consider it before telling him not to. The Raven was _never_ away from Viri.

Dwalin had some theories about _that_.

Dwalin was growing to know Viri. She had seemed so _blank_ , so unassuming before. Now he could see she was as bright and vibrant as any of her family – just quieter with it. He grew to know her little smiles when something was funny, the thinning of her lips when something displeased her, the way she brightened when something she wanted caught her eye.

Dwalin liked Viri. It was good to have a sister. He'd always thought he would be a good big brother – not that she was really younger than he was. He could still be protective of her though.

Viri sailed through the market, ponderous grace, a study in spheres. The descendants of Arnhadda were known for their beauty, and Dwalin was not sure he had ever seen a bearer look so beautiful. Her beautiful lace dresses were adjusted and tailored to perfectly complement her ever-changing body, her cleavage low to showcase the truly impressive things her chest was doing. Apparently strong underlying flight muscles lead to a surprising resistance to gravity. Even Dwalin had to admit it was impressive, and he'd never been attracted to such things. Those who _were_ literally walked into walls around her.

Viri, for all she was so quiet, _enjoyed_ that. A pretty bird every bit as vain as his Nori, she wanted to be admired. Dwalin made sure to step in if someone stared _too_ hard or made her uncomfortable, but people taking a second wide-eyed look, or fumbling and dropping things, or walking into walls, had Viri preening with that pleased little smile.

The speculation about _who_ she was bearing with was rampant in the mountain. The most popular theory seemed to be that she was a third to Dwalin and Nori, which Dwalin knew for a fact was not true. Another popular theory was that Lady Dis had been unfaithful to the princess' consort with her. Dwalin would eat his own axes if _that_ one were true. Dis did not have that in her, and no one who saw how Dis was with Ari would put any weight on it. A few other Company members and some of the other descendants of Arnhadda were popular targets as well, but Dwalin did not think so.

If he'd been betting, his money would be on Skrikja.

Nori had laughed when Dwalin suggested it, and then gone wide-eyed with a little 'oh'. The way Viri was with Skrikja was very much the way Dwalin was with Nori when he was a bird. Except that Skrikja could hold a conversation.

The only ones who knew for certain were Viri and Ari, and they were not saying. Viri was bearing for the line of Arnhadda, and anyone who even _looked_ like they thought that made her _less_ could meet with Dwalin's knuckle dusters, or Nori's knives, or Dori's flail, or Lady Dis' axes, or Skrikja's beak, or the sharp side of Ari or Ori's tongues. That last one might be the worst fate. Dwalin could punch someone out with a single well-placed blow, but Ari and Ori could make them too ashamed to show their face in public.

Dwalin followed behind Viri, doing his part as the protective brother as she did her shopping with Skrikja on her shoulder. He watched Viri's pleased little smile as a young Dam became entranced and nearly fell over her own feet. Considering the surprise on her face, Dwalin would suspect she had only realized at that moment what she was attracted to.

It was an odd family Dwalin had married into, that was certain. He hung back as Dori showed up to take over brotherly duties – giving Viri a hug before speaking a few sweet words to her big round belly.

It was an odd family, but as Dwalin nodded to Viri and Skrikja and Dori in turn, he could not help but smile. They were an odd family, but they were a good one.

They took care of their own, and they were _happy_ , and that was what mattered.

. .

When Viri's child was born, strong and healthy and _feathered_ , there was celebration throughout the quarters of the descendants of Arnhadda. Only the closest family were allowed in to see her and the baby, though. Skrikja sat on the headboard of the bed, preening Viri's sweaty feathers where she lay propped up on pillows and discreetly covered with a blanket.

Nori quietly joined Ari at Viri's side to get a look at the new little one. Nori knew for a fact that a _lot_ of Dwarves would be losing money because the baby did not carry even a scrap of Dwalin's skin tone. The baby was light pink skinned, under a healthy dose of fluffy black chick down. Nori kissed Viri's cheek and gently stroked the soft down of the baby's head.

He glanced back at Dwalin, standing back a bit but smiling at everyone. Nori returned to him, to have Dwalin's strong arms wrap around him to hold him tight as Dori and Ori and Lady Dis all greeted the newest member of the family.

“Skaeri.” Viri said, cradling her baby close and smiling tiredly, “Skaeri, child of Viri, of the line of Arnhadda.” She glanced toward Skrikja, who nuzzled his beak into her beard affectionately. Dwalin was undoubtedly right – Viri had even _named_ her child for the Raven.

“Skaeri.” those present repeated, greeting, remembering. Skaeri made a little sound, a creaking croak sort of a sound, and Viri was quick to readjust to let the baby nurse.

As the baby turned, Nori got a good look at a nose that had him looking back up at Skrikja to compare – there was no mistaking the curve on that big handsome keel.

Skaeri. Skaeri, beloved child of Viri and Skrikja, of the line of Arnhadda and the Ravens of Erebor. Glancing back at Dwalin, Nori could see by his mate's grin that he'd noticed it too.

Skaeri, the next generation of the descendants of Arnhadda, once again safe in Erebor.

Nori could not stop smiling as Ari shooed them all out so Viri could rest, glancing back for one last look at radiantly glowing Viri, cradling little Skaeri with Skrikja at her shoulder.

If that was not a perfect family, he didn't know what was.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also there is art, because TS continues to be a spoiled bug.  
> http://asparklethatisblue.tumblr.com/post/89481755293/pretty-bird-doodles-in-which-ari-mama-ri-and


	3. nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwalin dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be aware that there are PTSD type battle nightmares in this chapter. It's not nice.

.

The reality had been bad enough. The Battle of Five Armies, as it had come to be called, had been more than terrible enough.

Dwalin's dreams were worse.

In the dreams, sometimes Nori wasn't there to fling himself into Azog's face to distract him for that tiny crucial moment. Dwalin watched Azog kill Kili, and then Fili, and then Thorin.

Sometimes there were too many Orcs between them for Dwalin to fight through to save them. Too many, and they swamped Dwalin and he died there in the battlefield too – looking up toward Azog laughing over the bodies of the line of Durin.

Even when there _weren't_ any Orcs between them in the dream, Dwalin was always frozen too far away to help.

He never could do anything. He could never reach them.

He couldn't save them.

Sometimes in the dream Nori _did_ fling himself into Azog's face, but not until too late. Thorin didn't stab Azog through, and Dwalin still had to watch the line of Durin die.

Most often, though, it was just Nori who died.

Dwalin almost preferred the nights when Tauriel wore Thranduil's face and laughed as sweet broken Nori gasped his last breaths in Dwalin's arms, because at least _then_ Dwalin could wake up cursing.

On nights his mind _truly_ hated him, it was _Dwalin_ Azog had defeated and was about to kill when Nori changed to his bird.

Dwalin watched Azog's huge fingers wrap around Nori's tiny bird body, and he heard the horrible crunch of breaking bird bones. He was powerless to do anything but watch, he could never fight back, never attack Azog. He could only _watch_ as the pale Orc flung Nori's broken body down on the ground, and with the dark blood of scratches around his eyes and his sharp teeth bared in a triumphant smile, he stepped forward with one huge boot to grind Nori's bright rust and gray feathers into the battlefield mud and stone.

Dwalin woke screaming Nori's name.

The only time he'd injured himself after a dream was the time he woke up from watching him die and Nori _wasn't_ there. He'd fallen, in the panicked clumsiness of his search, somehow certain that the dream was real and the reality was a dream. He'd fallen and hit his head so it bled, and scraped his arm, and hardly noticed. It was Dori who'd found him, half-dressed and bleeding, bootless with an axe in his hand and tears on his face as he made to leave the mountain to hunt Azog.

Dori was as patient with a panicked old warrior as he was with a panicked bird.

That was the only time.

Dwalin watched Nori die and woke screaming his name, and Nori was there. Nori was there, with fever-hot soft skin under Dwalin's hands, his bird-dark eyes understanding, his hands gentle as he touched Dwalin, his words comforting.

Dwalin pulled his mate into his arms, held him too tight as he stroked the healed ridges of bone across Nori's ribs. Proof that Nori _had_ survived.

Nori murmured soft nothings to him, kissed the bald top of his head as Dwalin sobbed against his chest. There in the quiet darkness of their room there was no shame. Dwalin could shake and cry and promise his Pretty Bird that he would _never_ let him be hurt again until even he could almost believe it was possible to keep another person safe.

“I'm alive. I'm alive. I'm right here.” Nori soothed, giving Dwalin a little relieved smile when he was finally able to look up at him. Nori gently kissed the last of the tears from Dwalin's eyes, kissed Dwalin with his lips still salty.

He was warm and _alive_ , and Dwalin did not resist it as Nori gently eased him back down on the mattress and covered him with the blankets.

Dwalin didn't let him go, though, and Nori didn't try to escape. He draped himself across Dwalin's chest, light and warm there to rest. Dwalin kept one hand on Nori's back, feeling the rise and fall of his chest, the bird-quick beat of his heart.

He had his Nori, his Pretty Bird, and he could sleep.

.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading these side stories!
> 
> I think I may take another few days off, but then I'll be back with more Nwalin!  
> <3,  
> Ts
> 
> Now with art by Sparkle!  
> http://asparklethatisblue.tumblr.com/post/89795784468/im-so-sorry-i-couldnt-save-you-im-alive


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